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Cold-Blooded Demon: Seven Killed in the Bathroom
墨書 Inktalez
In May 2003, Beijing was a city shrouded in masks. Pedestrians hurried past, most entertainment venues had shut their doors, and even taxi drivers were hesitant to pick up passengers. This was the reality during the SARS outbreak.
At this time, 29-year-old Hui Jinbo had fled from Jilin to Beijing. Back in his hometown, he had reached a dead end. A murder case in 1994 had landed him in prison for several years, and after his release, he found himself hitting walls everywhere he turned. Relatives and friends avoided him, and he couldn't even find odd jobs.
"Damn it, I can't stay in this miserable place any longer," Hui Jinbo muttered as he packed the little belongings he had and boarded a green train heading to Beijing. He thought the capital would offer him new opportunities. After all, it was a bustling city with many people and many possibilities.
However, he never anticipated that the SARS epidemic would bring the entire city to a standstill. Without identification or any special skills, Hui Jinbo found himself living in a basement in an urban village, surviving on the few hundred yuan he had left. As his money dwindled, panic set in.
"If this goes on, I'm going to starve to death in this wretched place," he thought while staring at the water stains on the ceiling, contemplating his next move.
It was then that he met Li Junhui. The 32-year-old Li was a native Beijinger who should have been faring better than Hui Jinbo. Yet, in reality, his situation was no better. Li owned a small company that had been doing reasonably well until the outbreak hit and everything fell apart.
"Man, when do you think this will end?" Li Junhui complained as they sat together in a small restaurant that still dared to open its doors.
The two had met in this modest eatery because of its low prices. "My company? All my employees have scattered, clients are too afraid to meet, and I still have to pay rent. This month I've already fallen behind on three months' rent; the landlord is hounding me every day. Can you believe it? I'm a Beijinger and I've sunk this low."
Hui Jinbo listened intently. "Brother, it seems we share the same plight. I came to Beijing because I couldn't make it back home either, only to find things even worse here."
Two desperate men sat in a dimly lit diner, finding common ground as they talked more and more. Hui Jinbo realized that although Li Junhui was from Beijing, he was timid and overly cautious in his actions. Li Junhui, on the other hand, noticed a fierce determination in Hui Jinbo, someone willing to do what others dared not.
"Old Hui, do you think if we keep going like this, we'll just be waiting to die?" Li Junhui slurred slightly from the drinks.
"Waiting to die? I have no intention of doing that," Hui Jinbo replied, a glint of ferocity flashing in his eyes. "There are plenty of wealthy people in this world; why should we suffer like this?"
Li Junhui caught the underlying meaning in his words. "What do you mean…?"
Hui Jinbo leaned in and lowered his voice. "Since the normal paths aren't working, let's take some unconventional routes."
Li Junhui hesitated. After all, being from Beijing, he had been raised with an understanding of what was right and wrong.
"Look," Hui Jinbo said, pointing out the window, "right now, the police are busy dealing with the pandemic; they don't have time for anything else. This is an opportunity—miss it and it's gone."
"We find a target, get in and out quickly, pull off a big score, then go our separate ways. I’ll return home, and you can pay off your debts and start fresh."
Li Junhui felt his resolve wavering. He recalled the landlord's threatening face when demanding payment, the friends who were avoiding him, and the disappointment in his wife's eyes.
"Then… what target should we go for?" Li Junhui finally relented.
Hui Jinbo had already thought it through: "The bathhouse."
"The bathhouse?"
"Yes," Hui Jinbo's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Think about it—most bathhouses are closed right now, but there are always a few still operating secretly. These places deal in cash and attract wealthy clients. The best part is that those who go to bathhouses now don’t want to draw attention; even if something goes wrong, they wouldn’t dare call the police."
With that, the two began wandering around Chaoyang District, searching for a suitable target. After several days of observation, they pinpointed a bathhouse that was still open.
"This is it," Hui Jinbo said, pointing at the establishment. "This is our chance to turn things around."
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